Friday, September 21, 2018

Baron Luzader, former Navy SEAL, never liked to talk … until he was forced to do it as part of his post-service therapy. Now, he finds his free tongue gets him in trouble more often than not, especially when he’s assigned to work a surveillance mission with a brilliant, beautiful woman. Eight years in Special Ops didn’t prepare him for Nessa.
Nessa Dimmick finally has a chance to prove herself in her field of Information Management. The biggest perk of the new job turns out to be her hunky partner, a former Navy SEAL with a great smile and no filter on what he says. Baron is different than anyone she’s ever worked with and his constant stream-of-consciousness compliments keep her blushing. She’s new to this whole partner thing, however, and they both have to figure out that trust goes both ways.
When their surveillance takes them across the Mexico border, Nessa wants to prove herself in the unfamiliar environment and gets in over her head. If she can’t learn to trust Baron, her actions could put the two of them and their relationship in danger.

For the next while, Baron looked forward to being alone, and if he
wasn’t alone, then he’d be spending time with his former SEAL brothers.
With them he’d be back where life was comfortable.
Sutton pushed a button on the earpiece and said, “Early as well. Show
her in.” Speaking to Baron, he said, “Looks as if you won’t have to
wait long.”

“What? Huh? You didn’t say anything about—” He cut himself off and
took a breath. Maybe Her had to do with the briefing for the mission. Or
maybe Her would be his contact point. Or maybe—best case scenario—Her
had nothing to do with Baron whatsoever.

Two sets of footsteps grew louder as Baron sweated over whatever was
coming. He’d been in worse situations. Once he had a chance to gather
all the applicable intell, he’d process it, and proceed from there.
Adapt and overcome.

Whatever, or whoever walked through that door couldn’t be as horrible as …

A gorgeous brunette stepped into the room. Her intelligent eyes were
wide behind cat-eye glasses as she ogled all of the computer equipment.
That must have been how Baron had looked, just not so dang … pretty.
Wow. No makeup, which she didn’t need. No fancy hairdo, just a simple
ponytail. And plain clothes, farm professional just like Sutton had told
Baron to wear.

“Hold on a sec,” said Baron, looking down at his own Carhartt pants
and nice plaid button-up shirt. “Why are we dressed the same? I was
planning on working alone, not with a civvy. This is starting to feel
like a bad cop show.” He hoped he was overreacting and that the sweat
beading on his brow turned out to be a false alarm. If this woman was
from the produce importer who Baron would be doing surveillance on, it
made sense that he had been told to dress in a manner to mimic what
people in the industry would wear. Maybe they didn’t have to work
closely together and were just being brought together for a consult.

Under other circumstances, Baron wouldn’t mind spending time with
her. He had a weakness for smart women, and somehow he could tell this
one was brilliant. Brains and beauty in one package. If he wasn’t still
trying to fit into the real world after eight years as a SEAL, he might
try to work up the courage to ask her out.

“Please, have a seat.” Sutton motioned to both chairs.

Baron looked around, realizing he’d stood when the woman had entered.
Her eyes were no longer on the room, but on him, and she was definitely
wary. Her smile was faint now, and the way her head was pulled ever so
slightly away from him, let him know she might have taken his comment as
an attack.

“Baron?” she asked. “No wonder you can’t be bothered to work with a
commoner. Do I need to call you Highness or something like that?”

“Dang,” he said. “You are feeling attacked.” That hadn’t been his
intent at all. For his own mental health, he didn’t plan on changing his
habit of talking too much anytime soon, but working with a beautiful
woman, he might have to steer his comments in ways that wouldn’t be
taken wrong.

“Baron’s my name,” he said, adding a grin. “However, if you
prefer formal, the proper address for a baron is ‘Lord’”.

She relaxed and smiled back at him.

“I suggest familiar, rather than formal,” said Sutton. “Since you lot
will be spending every day together for the foreseeable future.”

“What? No!” Baron shot from his chair again. “Being alone with a beautiful woman was not what I signed up for.”

“What you signed up for?” asked Sutton, this time not hiding his amusement.

Nessa’s mouth was hanging open until she spoke. “You don’t want a
cheesy cop show job, yet you’re sticking to the ‘I work alone’ role?
Talk about cliché.”

“It’s not that,” said Baron, settling into his seat.

“Let me guess,” she said. He noticed her nostrils were slightly
flared and her face had a red tinge. It didn’t hurt her good looks in
the slightest. “You didn’t sign up to work with a woman. Navy SEALs
don’t have women in their ranks, so every woman must be below your
superior standards.”

She knew more about him than he did about her, and that made him
tentative. With less intel than the enemy, he was at a disadvantage and
had to proceed cautiously. “That’s … not what I meant either. For the
past six months I’ve been the linchpin between a dozen different
entities dividing and transferring a family business. Before that I was a
soldier, always taking orders, always working with a team. Is it wrong
to crave one solo mission at some point in my life?”

“It’s not wrong,” said Nessa, “but you might want to try filtering
your thoughts once in a while before vomiting them out into the world.”

Sutton was enjoying himself far too much, leaning back in his chair
and observing the verbal tennis match. It occurred to Baron that he’d
been kept in the dark about Nessa on purpose. This was a test. Sutton
wanted to know how well Baron would roll with a change in plans, to find
out if he would adapt and overcome. It would take more than some
pretty, exasperating partner to ruin this opportunity for him.

Pulling the curtain down on his face over his emotions, Baron said, “What’s the mission, boss?”
Sutton became all business as well. “Miss Dimmick is one of the brightest new stars in the field of information management.”

“Oh, Miss Dimmick is it?” asked Baron, trying to get past the confrontation to a fun banter. “So we’re back to formal.”

She had him there. Of all the frustrating situations Baron had
imagined in Sutton Smith’s Warrior Project, Doctor Nessa Dimmick had not
been anywhere on his radar.

This book is great! The chemistry between the two main characters jumps off the page. You will love laughing with them and falling in love with them. There is also some suspense in this sweet romance. ~Sue Stinnett

This is a refreshing and heartwarming romance with charming and unique characters that draw you in from the very beginning. ~Goodreads Review

Author Daniel Banner

Daniel Banner, a 15-year fireman and paramedic, collects experiences by day and makes up stories by nights, and sometimes vice versa. For Daniel, writing is an escape from the traumatic days, and a celebration of the triumphant days.

Giveaway Details
Ends 10/8/18
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use money sent via Paypal or gift codes via Amazon.com. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

Monday, June 18, 2018

JFK, a firefighter for the Park City Fire Department, is tired of being razzed about his classy nickname. He’s lost weight, and even cut back on the swearing and drinking in an effort to fit the image. Still, he believes people never really change at heart. After all, under those muscles that can bench 250, he’s still the same guy. When a striking beauty wanders into his kitchen with her two-year sobriety coin, he wonders if he’s underestimated himself. A guy like him might just get a girl like her.

Mercy Jewell McGovern, recently graduated from college and is in the process of getting her life back on track when she meets JFK. She’s immediately attracted to the capable chef running his precision kitchen at a charity event. But on their first date, it’s obvious he’s used to hanging out with guys, not with a lady. That won’t fly for Mercy. Despite her rowdy past, she knows she’s worthy of someone who knows how to open a door for her and can sit down to Sunday dinner with her extended family, the Jewells, who could write books on manners.

Time after time JFK comes to her rescue, but will she be the one to ultimately save him from settling for less than his best?

As Mercy walked into the huge, bustling kitchen, she heard a man
snap, “Just because it’s a free meal doesn’t mean they get what they pay
for!” She saw a large man in a white chef’s coat and big white chef’s
hat that fell back behind his head. He went on to tell a middle-aged man
who was slicing potatoes, “These little pieces are going to be
starch-mush and these big fat ones will be crunchy. You can’t cook a
dime and a hockey puck in the same dish. Keep it consistent, keep it
quality.”

“Yes, Chef,” said the man with the dedication of a reality food show contestant.

The chef took a step over to another counter where a row of women
were washing and peeling potatoes and picked up a perfectly peeled
specimen. “If I need eggs peeled I know who to come to, but we’re making
gourmet.” He grabbed a potato out of a huge bowl that had bits of peel
still on it. “Gourmet, Mrs. Huxton. It’s like regular food but with more
mistakes and smaller portions.”

“Yes, Chef,” she said and screwed up her face as she worked on peeling potatoes in a less perfectionist manner.

The chef was young to be so in charge, maybe 25 or 26. His facial
features were large and manly and his eyes took in everything from under
a strong brow. His jaw was just as strong and his big lips looked like
they could be kissed for hours without wearing out. It had been a while
since a man’s physical appearance had such an effect on Mercy, and she
shook her head to clear it and get back to work.

It was obvious the chef wanted good work done in his kitchen and he
didn’t really care about what people thought about him. Yeah, his
bedside manner could be more coddling with the volunteers and paid
workers, but they seemed to respond to his brusque manner.

Mercy found his manner attractive, as well as the way his kitchen
buzzed with people getting things done right. His big, strong face was
just plain sexy, she found herself thinking again. He was nothing like a
chiseled marble statue, more like Tarzan, King of the Jungle, but not
as ripped. Under the chef jacket he was carrying some extra weight, but
he carried it just fine.

The name badge pinned to his chest strictly read, Chef.

“Looking for a job?” he asked her, and she realized she’d been
staring. “Or just admiring the specimen?” He spread his hands wide to
let her see all of him.

Mercy smiled and brushed her hair back behind one ear and wondered if
he liked edgy hair styles. “I’m Mercy, the Volunteer Coordinator for
today.”

“Oh good.” Projecting his voice toward some people chopping green
beans, he said, “Now I know who to call when Jeff chops his fingers
off.”

“I’m being more careful, Chef,” said a skinny man in glasses without looking up.

“What’s your name?” asked Mercy.

“JFK.”

“I like your hat,” she told him.

“Thanks, I like your …” he looked at the shaved side of her head, the
small stud in her nose, then at her coat, her Chuck Taylors, then his
eyes stopped briefly on her neck where a couple of her tattoos came up
almost to her hairline. With a mischievous grin he said, “I like your
compliment of my hat.”

Mercy found herself laughing naturally. Usually when she met guys her
age they were either tripping over themselves trying to impress her, or
sneering contemptuously at her. This guy—JFK? Really?—was one hundred
percent himself. She didn’t know if she’d ever met someone so real.

"I've loved all of the books in this series, but I have to say this was my favorite so far!"

"JFK had Mercy crying happy tears by the 43 percent mark, and I was crying with her."

Author Daniel Banner

Daniel Banner, a 15-year fireman and paramedic, collects experiences by day and makes up stories by nights, and sometimes vice versa. For Daniel, writing is an escape from the traumatic days, and a celebration of the triumphant days.

Giveaway Details
Ends 7/8/18
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use money sent via Paypal or gift codes via Amazon.com. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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